King of Pain
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Roarke helps Christian through a depression by recruiting some very unusual characters.  Follows 'Aspirations'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _If I don't post during December, just blame the holiday madness. [grin] In the meantime, here is one of the easiest stories I've ever done (and enjoyable too). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

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§ § § - November 15, 2006

"_You've just never gotten over it, have you?"_

Christian would have died before he told Leslie this, but her question had been echoing through his brain ever since she'd unthinkingly thrown it out there the month before, during an argument. The real shame of it, he kept thinking, was that she was right. He might have admitted as much, and she might have apologized and he forgiven her for saying it; but that didn't keep it from plaguing him.

He didn't really know whom to talk to. He might have discussed it with his mother had she been alive; but in her absence, he felt a void. He just couldn't bring himself to talk to Leslie about it; she might understand, but she still hadn't been there to witness his travails at his father's hand. Anna-Laura was very much out of the question, after the enormous shouting match he'd had with her over the subject. As to Carl Johan, in a way he was the "overlooked" son: he hadn't been their father's favorite, but he hadn't been the man's scapegoat either. Christian pondered it, sitting in his office that Wednesday afternoon; he still had the opportunity, since Carl Johan and Amalia had decided to stay on indefinitely after the rest of the family had returned to Lilla Jordsö.

Yes…maybe his brother, as the closest thing he knew of to a neutral party, might well be the ideal person to talk to about the whole thing. He shifted in his chair, propping his chin on his fist and nodding to himself. He picked up the phone beside his monitor and tapped out the three digits assigned to the bungalow Carl Johan and Amalia were using.

"Yes?" his brother's voice asked.

Christian deliberately used his native language. _"Hallå då, äldrebror. _ Are you busy?"

"Not at the moment. Amalia's decided to treat herself at the spa, and I'm trying to keep myself occupied. I thought you had to work today."

"Ah, it's slow," Christian said dismissively. "How about I come over there…I need to talk to you about something."

"By all means," his brother agreed. "I'll be waiting."

"See you in a few moments," said Christian and hung up. He glanced around the room; only Taro and Julianne were there, and he let them know he was leaving and departed the office without so much as a backward glance. He had the car, but he bypassed it, needing the walk to the bungalows in order to think.

Carl Johan peered oddly at him when he let him in. "Looks as if whatever you need to talk about is pretty serious," he said. "Sit down…drink?"

"I suppose I could use one," Christian said through a sigh. "Just whatever's there, I don't care." He settled into a comfortable armchair and rested his head on the back of it, staring at the ceiling and listening to Carl Johan putting a couple of mixed drinks together. He lifted his head only when his brother returned and handed him a glass, and after a few minutes Christian blew out a breath, staring at the ice cubes in the glass.

"Well, what is it?" Carl Johan prompted.

Christian looked up. "Did Anna-Laura fill you in about the enormous argument we had last month? The one the morning after a fight Leslie and I had?"

"Oh yes, that one," chuckled Carl Johan. "It must have been quite the fight, if it's still on your mind a month later."

"It's not the fight itself, it's what Leslie said that started everything. That I never got over what Father and Arnulf did to me. We made up, of course, but somehow her words have never left my head. They've been driving me crazy ever since." He leaned forward, feeling desperate. "What am I supposed to do? I'll never be able to resolve my bitterness over this. I can't—Arnulf and Father are both dead. In essence, it means they got away with all the things they did, not just to me but to Anna-Laura and Esbjörn, and all the rest of us in sundry small ways. I keep wishing for the chance to square things, for the opportunity to have them sitting before me, tied to chairs and gagged preferably—" he barely cracked a smile when Carl Johan laughed— "and make them listen while I give them all the grief they earned from me over the years. But I can't. They're dead. I have no way to purge the anger and the grief and the bitterness. What can I do?"

Carl Johan thought this over for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "Have you thought of asking Mr. Roarke?"

"You must be joking. I can't even talk to Leslie about this; what makes you think I could confide in Mr. Roarke? Ah, it's no use." Christian let his head fall against the back of the chair again. "There's nothing I can do about it, nothing at all. Why in fate's name can't I just resign myself?"

"You can't talk to _Leslie_ about this? _I ödet's namn,_ Christian, that's serious."

"I know, but I don't want to upset her. Those are her words bouncing around my head. If she knew that, she'd feel guilty, and I don't want that to happen to her."

"Well, I certainly can't do anything about it," Carl Johan pointed out. "I still think you should talk to Mr. Roarke. If anyone could provide a solution of any sort, he'd be the one. You're selling him short if you don't."

"Oh, for fate's sake, Carl Johan, he'd merely tell me I must find my own way to make peace with the problem. Whatever Mr. Roarke's abilities may be, there are certain things he won't do. He'd say it's the easy way out, that most people wouldn't have the option to come to him and ask him to do something beyond what ordinary mortals would be capable of doing." He blew out a long sigh. "Other people learn to live with it in one way or another. I'll just have to do the same." He looked at his drink, then gulped down half of it in one rapid series of swallows while Carl Johan looked at him with a sense of alarm. "I'm sorry I wasted your time, _äldrebror_. I may as well go home and let Ingrid do something other than babysit my children." He drained the rest of his glass and got to his feet.

"You'd better have someone drive you home," Carl Johan warned him. "You don't drink that much, and I'm sure your sensitivity has risen."

"It's only one drink. Or did you make it stronger than I thought?" Christian twitted him gently. His brother grimaced, and he grinned wryly. "Thanks for your time."

He climbed into the car once he'd walked back to his office, and headed for home, west along the north branch of the Ring Road. He allowed his troubled mind to wander as he drove, barely even registering when he turned down the Old Swamp Road shortcut and driving entirely by rote thereafter. So it was a complete shock when he turned onto the southern branch of the Ring Road and collided at five miles an hour, head-on, with the island's one and only postal truck.

Stunned, Christian sat there and stared wide-eyed at nothing; then he blinked and muttered a couple of self-deprecating curses before getting out of the car. The postal carrier got out as well, gasping aloud when he recognized Christian. "Your Highness!"

"It was my fault," Christian said instantly. "I let my mind get away from me and didn't bother to watch what I was doing. How bad is the damage to the truck?"

They inspected both vehicles; the truck's front grille had been stove in, and the front of the Enstads' car was pushed back just far enough that Christian could see the headlights were now out of alignment and the hood was slightly bent. Both engines were still running, however, which was a relief to both drivers. "When you get back to the post office, tell them what happened, and have them call me if they need corroboration," Christian said. "As I said, it was my fault. I hope you were close to finishing your duties for the day."

"Just came out of the Enclave and was about to head back to the post office," said the man, ruefully surveying the postal truck. "Thanks, Your Highness."

Christian shook his head, half wanting to laugh. "You're _thanking_ me for this debacle?" he asked incredulously, and the postman snickered. "Have a safe trip back. You should, anyway, now that I'll be off the road shortly." They shook hands, and a minute later had gone their separate ways, Christian now driving much more slowly and keeping a far sharper eye on the road and his surroundings. He knew he was being overly cautious, but he was mortified by his ridiculous little accident, and wondered morosely what Leslie would say when she found out.

She didn't come home till almost five-thirty, and when she did, she had a funny look on her face. "What happened to the car?" she asked.

Christian groaned inwardly, shut off the television and explained it to her. Leslie listened quietly, then sighed, smiled a little and sat down next to him. "What in the world made you start woolgathering like that?" she asked.

He gave her a furtive look and made a face. "I've had something on my mind and had just finished talking to Carl Johan about it. Not that there's anything that can really be done about it. And no," he said quickly when she opened her mouth, "don't bother asking. It's nothing to do with you, my Rose. It's my problem, and I need to deal with it myself."

"You know it's supposed to help if you talk about it, my love," Leslie reminded him. "Just because you think nothing can be done about it, doesn't mean somebody else doesn't have any ideas." She took in the skeptical look on his face and ventured, "Even if you don't want to tell me about it, you could still talk to Father."

"Ach, you and my brother," he said, chuckling once. "No, my darling, even your father can't do anything about this. If he could, I doubt he would. No matter what fantasies he may grant, there are some things that perhaps he can do, but refuses to, and this would fall under that category. Please, let it rest. I need your help deciding where we'll take the car for repairs, and finding out how much it's going to cost us."

Leslie snorted. "Oh, that's nothing. We can just take it to the garage that maintains Father's fleet. And you know we can afford the cost of repairs." She hesitated then and frowned slightly, reconsidering this. "Wait a minute, does it still run?"

"Yes, of course it does," he said. "I drove it back here, after all."

"Oh yeah. Well, then, we don't have to worry about getting it over there. Christian, why do you look like that?"

"Weren't you listening when I said it was my fault?" he asked, his voice taking on a crisp edge of impatience. "We'll be liable for repairs to the postal truck as well, not just our car. It's going to set us back a fair amount. Damn." He slapped a palm onto the sofa cushion beside him, making her flinch. "Nothing's gone right for a month. I'm sorry, Leslie, I'm afraid I'm very bad company right now. Leave the car problem till tomorrow, will you? I'm going to try to do some computer work." Without waiting for her acknowledgement, he pushed himself off the sofa and strode across the room and upstairs.

She stared after him, wondering uneasily what was going on. She'd noticed that he'd been vaguely troubled by something for several weeks now, but on the few occasions she'd tried to talk to him about it, he had dismissed it and changed the subject. _He won't talk to me, he won't talk to Father…what's so terrible that he thinks we can't help him?_ She stiffened where she sat, frowning. _Wait a minute here…he said he had talked to Carl Johan about it. Maybe I can get some more information from him._ She got up and went to the kitchen phone, punching out the number of the bungalow where her brother-in-law and his wife were staying.

"Oh, Leslie," said Carl Johan, sounding peculiarly uneasy, when she identified herself. "Well, yes, Christian did talk to me a little, earlier on. He's…he's been bothered by some things that he and Anna-Laura talked about." She thought he sounded tentative, as if he were carefully choosing his words. "I told him perhaps he should speak to you or Mr. Roarke about it…"

"And he won't," Leslie filled in, "right?"

"He says there's nothing any of us can do about it. In fact, he's convinced Mr. Roarke won't, even if he can." There was a moment's pause. "Has something happened, Leslie?"

"Well, he had a little accident on the way home. He collided with the island postal truck. The damage isn't that bad, but he knew it was his fault and it upset him. Please, Carl Johan, what's bothering him so much?"

This time the pause was so long that Leslie felt her stomach start to roll with alarm. Finally he said slowly, "He said he dared not talk to you about it…for his own reasons."

"He did?" she asked numbly. What was he afraid she would do to him?

"Please, don't take it the wrong way. I just don't feel it right to betray his confidence," Carl Johan said hastily. "I hope you understand."

"I think so," Leslie said softly, feeling hurt. "Well, okay, I'm sorry to bother you."

"No, it's no bother. I just hope you can convince Christian to talk to you. Let us know, will you?"

She promised to keep him informed, then hung up with a sense of foreboding. _This thing, whatever it is, is eating him alive,_ she thought, gazing unseeingly at the wall. _It has to be, when he had this accident, and as far as I know it's the first one he's ever had. What'll it take to get him to open up and do something about it?_

‡ ‡ ‡

Neither Leslie nor Christian knew it just then, but already forces were in motion that would set off an incredible chain of events. At the main house, Roarke sensed something odd in the air; he couldn't have described what it was, not even to himself, for it was so subtle he almost wasn't sure he felt it at all. But he knew as surely as it snows in Siberia that something very significant was about to happen.


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § - November 16, 2006

Christian hadn't gone in to work that day, and had been evasive when Leslie asked him if he felt sick. "It's not illness," he had mumbled, "just…well. Tell Ingrid on your way out that she need not worry about the children, I'll take care of them today." Susanna, Karina and Tobias had been delighted by the idea of having their father home to play with them, and Leslie had felt somewhat reassured from hearing his laughter as they climbed all over him on the living-room floor when she left the house. She herself felt a little guilty, as she always did, that she couldn't take more time off herself to be with her children, these three babies she had wanted so badly for so long. It crossed her mind to ask Roarke about it, and when she got to the main house she pitched it at him headlong.

Roarke looked surprised. "Do you feel as if you need to do so?" he asked.

"I don't know, I just feel as if I'm skipping out on the kids sometimes," she admitted, shrugging. "Maybe more so this morning because Christian decided to stay home with them so Ingrid could have time for other things. Speaking of Christian…" She drew in a breath and sat down in one of the leather chairs. "Something's been wrong with him for at least the last month or so. Nothing I could really put my finger on. He won't talk about it. But then it sort of came to a head yesterday. Come out here and let me show you something."

Roarke arose and followed her out to where the Enstads' damaged car sat in the lane. "How did that happen?" he asked, surveying it.

Leslie explained what Christian had told her about the collision. "He knew it was his fault, that isn't the problem. He made some noise about what it'll cost to fix both our car and the postal truck, but…" She glanced at Roarke before staring pensively at the car. "I don't think it's the accident that's really bothering him. It's something else. He mentioned he'd been talking to Carl Johan about it just before he had the accident, so I called Carl Johan and tried to get him to tell me. Only he wouldn't. He said he felt it would be betraying a confidence." She met Roarke's interested gaze. "I don't know what's going on. I'm starting to feel as if there's some sort of…of distance between us." She spread her hands helplessly. "We've been married almost six years. Does this happen to every couple? Is this—" she indicated the car— "a typical example of problems in a marriage?"

Roarke laughed. "I don't think they necessarily have to contend with auto accidents in the course of solving problems," he teased gently, "but sooner or later all married couples face minor crises such as this. And you and I both know Christian well enough to realize that you can't push him to tell you. If he feels ready to talk to you, he will."

"He did say it had nothing to do with me," she mused uneasily, "but I got the weirdest sense that he wasn't quite telling the truth. There are times when I wish I could read his mind. And no, that's not a request for a fantasy."

He regarded her, interest momentarily piqued on that score. "Indeed, not once in all the time you've lived here have you ever asked me for a fantasy. Tattoo certainly did, and Lawrence did at least once, in a somewhat roundabout way. Between Lawrence and you, the assistants I had generally weren't here long enough, or committed too many egregious errors—or both—to have the chance to ask. But you've had ample opportunity to make a request, and have never done so."

"I don't know, maybe I've always figured it'd just feel like mooching," Leslie said with a one-shouldered shrug. "And besides, the only fantasy I can think of that I'd really want, you can't grant." They both knew what she meant, and smiled at the same moment. "I do want to help him, Father, but I don't even know where to start, and I'm getting the feeling that he's shutting me out, without quite realizing that's what he's doing."

"That's typical of someone heavily bothered by a problem," said Roarke. "And if, as you say, you feel he's prevaricating when he tells you it has nothing to do with you, then perhaps he's withholding from you because he's afraid that whatever involvement you may have in his problem would cause you to feel undeservedly guilty."

Leslie stared at him in amazement, then blinked and swallowed. "Well, I suppose I can understand that, then. In a way I'm not so sure anymore that I want to know." Again she let her gaze go back to the car. "I told Christian the garage that services your fleet can fix this, and the postal truck too. But I figure the postal truck takes priority—after all, how else would the rest of the island get their mail? Kali takes care of the resort, but beyond that it's Kahanu for everywhere else."

Roarke shook his head. "Don't worry about that, Leslie. The truck is already in for repairs, and the garage has been instructed to send the bill to your house. They know the urgency of the request and have put priority on it. Try not to concern yourself over things you can't control. As to Christian, sooner or later whatever is bothering him will become too much for him to endure, and if for no other reason, he'll seek you out to talk to you. I'm afraid you can only wait for that to happen. You can't force him."

Left with only this to chew on, she had to accept it, and got down to the day's work with some effort. In fact, it was possible that she concentrated too hard, for by early afternoon everything she usually did during a day had been completed, and she was standing in the study looking around for something else to do, at loose ends.

Roarke chuckled when he saw her. "Go on home to your family, child," he advised. "There's nothing needing doing that can't wait for tomorrow."

She cast him a grateful smile and left without further ado, but he wasn't to be left in peace just yet. That odd sensation he'd felt the previous evening returned, a little stronger than before, and he stilled in his chair, frowning. When the feeling began to exert some sort of inexplicable tug on him, he arose and left the house on foot, walking the paths till anyone else would have been thoroughly lost, even his daughter. After quite a long time, a familiar voice remarked, "There you are. It's about time, Roarke."

Roarke paused and regarded the figure in black, leaning indolently against a tree. "Well, Mephistopheles. I must say I'm somewhat surprised."

"It hasn't been very long, has it?" Mephistopheles agreed, chuckling and launching himself off the trunk. "Well, fear not, this time there are none of my little minions running around breaking my rules. Actually…" His face clouded over a bit. "I wouldn't even be here were it not for a very strange request I received last evening. A request I found it impossible to ignore." He flicked a glance skyward.

"Oh?" Roarke prompted. He understood, just from that momentary look, where the request must have come from. "But why involve you?"

"Because said request concerns someone in my domain. Now, mind you, once I've someone in my lair, I'm quite loath to let them go, even for a little while. But as I said, I simply couldn't ignore this request. A pity really, that I'm still not the true master of my own realm."

"As well you couldn't," Roarke observed. "If you received a request from that source, you can be certain it's urgent and does not come without good reason. Perhaps you'd better tell me a little more."

"I'm getting to it, Roarke, I'm getting to it," Mephistopheles said, mildly irritated. "The request I speak of involves not only someone in my domain, but…someone else. I was given to understand that it would take both these entities to make things right." He caught Roarke's questioning look and spread out his palms. "I don't know, Roarke, before you ask. I'm merely the messenger here, and that's only because, as I said, the two entities reside in my jurisdiction. But I put my own condition on this one. Only one may be released, because the other made his peace before he died."

Something about the way he said this tickled a memory in the depths of Roarke's mind, and he hesitated a moment, reaching back mentally. Then he found it and smiled, ever so slightly. This was a surprise indeed. "Very well, then, what can I do to help?"

§ § § - November 20, 2006

The negotiations had taken a little longer than Roarke, or even Mephistopheles, had expected them to; but everything had been sorted out and arranged, and now all that remained was to set it all in motion. Roarke had just hung up from summoning Christian and Leslie, with the triplets, to the main house. Ostensibly he had invited them for lunch, but there was something far more momentous on his mind than that. While he waited for their arrival, he considered the best way to explain to them what they were about to see, without giving away too much.

He waited till about midway through the meal, when Mariki was least likely to come out for some time, before broaching the subject. "I must apologize for whatever minor duplicity I employed in calling you here," he said with a little smile. "While I'm glad to have your company for the meal, of course, there is another, much larger, reason I asked you to come."

Christian and Leslie both stilled and watched him. "What's that?" Leslie asked.

Roarke cleared his throat slightly and put down his fork. "I was contacted last week by Mephistopheles," he began, and lifted a hand at their alarmed looks. "No, no, there's no danger. This time it was at the behest of entirely another entity, one I suspect will surprise both of you. Especially you, Christian, I believe. He informed me that he had received what he termed a 'request' from one of the Three Fates."

Leslie blinked slowly once; Christian let his mouth fall open. _"Ödet ta mej,"_ he breathed without thinking.

"Yes, he himself was quite surprised. Normally his summons, rare as they are, come from a much different source." Roarke smiled. "Even I was originally mistaken as to where I believed the request came from. But this one seems to be special. The same ladies who are so integral a part of the _jordisk_ belief system, even today, found reason to contact him for something very special. There was so much negotiation involved that it took us several days to put everything in place, but we are ready now. Once you've finished your meals, we'll go inside and I'll give you further directions."

Christian and Leslie exchanged one look, and as if by mutual agreement, both began to make short work of what remained on their plates. Roarke grinned to himself and resumed eating his own lunch, happy to see he'd piqued their curiosity.

Within half an hour they were inside the house; the triplets, clearly sensing something in the air, stood solemn and a little scared-looking, each child clinging to the hand of a parent. Roarke smiled at them, even though he got a return one only from Tobias, and paused in front of the door to the time-travel room. "If you two would take the children inside," he said gently, "all your questions will be answered, in one way or another."

"All of us?" Christian asked. "That's an awfully small room."

Roarke glanced at the door behind him, then chuckled. "Ah, but my dear Christian, this time you'll have all the space, and all the time, you need. Have no fear of that." They stared at him as he pulled out his gold watch and took note of the time; leaving the watch open, he eyed the door, aimed one almost casual glance at the grandfather clock, and then turned his attention back to the watch. The room was so quiet that Christian and Leslie thought they could hear its ticking. Finally Roarke nodded, snapped the watch shut and put it back in its usual pocket. "It's time."

"Aren't you coming in with us?" Leslie wanted to know.

Roarke shook his head. "This is primarily for Christian, but you and the children were also specifically requested." He held them still with his gaze. "Make the most of this time that you possibly can. You will never have another chance." With that he reached out and opened the door. "Go ahead."

Once more Christian and Leslie looked at each other, this time with a mix of perplexity and nervousness, before Christian slowly moved into the room, with Tobias at his side still clutching his hand. Leslie followed him in with the girls. When Roarke shut the door, darkness reigned for a few seconds, and one of the triplets whimpered in protest. "It's okay, sweetie," Leslie said softly, but before she could do or say anything else, the room lit on one end, revealing two quite unusual characters.

Leslie barely had time to wonder why they looked familiar before Christian emitted a choked noise. She cranked her head around to look at him and saw that his eyes were all but bounding out of his head, his lower jaw dangled and his entire body was frozen in place. _"Nej, dehär hender inte alls,"_ he gasped, shaking his head.

"It's possible, my son," a soft feminine voice assured him, and Leslie's attention was drawn back to the two figures near the far wall. And in that instant, she recognized them, and gasped so loudly that one of the children began to cry.

"Mother," Christian cried out and actually leaped the space separating him from Queen Susanna, seizing her and throwing his arms around her. She hugged him back, her eyes squeezed tightly shut but tears leaking out anyway. Leslie's own eyes instantly filled, both for herself and that remembered reunion with her mother so many years ago, and for her husband, who had missed his own mother for so long. She blinked them away, taking the chance to study the woman who would have been her mother-in-law. Queen Susanna was a very handsome woman, not much different from the 1962 coronation tape of which she and Christian now had a DVD copy, with smooth, straight dark hair and the same nose her son had. She was just about Leslie's height, and clad in a simple navy-blue dress and low-heeled shoes, with a silver watch wrapped around one wrist and a matching chain around her neck. Her hair was attractively cut into a shining cap whose longest tendrils just brushed her collar.

Leslie hefted up Susanna, the triplet who'd been frightened by her gasp, and felt Karina and Tobias wrap their arms around her legs as she cuddled their sister. Christian drew back then and stared down at his mother, his face still alive with wonder and lingering disbelief. "It's really you. I can't…what…what's…how did this come to be?"

The queen seemed to have eyes only for her youngest child. "I've been watching you, Christian _lilla_. I know you're wrestling with the same questions that have plagued you for so much of your life, perhaps ever since that wretched wedding to Johanna. I couldn't bear to see you in so much pain, so I used my chance and pleaded to have this meeting set up."

"Who dat, Mommy?" Susanna asked in a tiny voice.

"That's Daddy's mommy, sweetie," Leslie said softly. "Your grandmother."

Their voices had caught Christian's attention and he suddenly chuckled, a watery, choked sort of sound that combined overwhelmed emotion and his pride in his family. "Oh, Mother, I should have…well, maybe you know, but still. This is my Leslie Rose, my beloved wife." He met the queen's gaze. "She's the woman you always promised me was out there waiting for me to find her."

For the first time, the elder Susanna looked with interest at Leslie, who belatedly realized there was protocol to be observed and managed a deep curtsy, even with her daughter in her arms. "Your Majesty," she said, "I'm so happy to meet you."

"Leslie, my dear girl, you're the one who finally caught my son's heart. You need only call me Madame, just as my other daughters-in-law and my son-in-law would. And is that the little one you named for me and your mother?" Her gaze shifted to Susanna, who was now staring curiously at the queen.

"Yes, this is Susanna Shannon," Christian said. "Susanna, this is my mother, your _farmor_. Her name is Susanna, too."

"Say hello to _farmor_," Leslie prompted, and Susanna hesitantly waggled her fingers at the delighted queen. "And of course, we can't forget her brother and sister. Tobias Lukas Roarke, and Karina Skye."

Queen Susanna edged forward, drinking in the sight of these grandchildren she would never otherwise really know, and knelt to touch Karina's hair, then Tobias' cheek. "Oh, they're so beautiful, all three of them." She straightened, winked and smiled at her wide-eyed little namesake, and then beamed at Christian. "Christian _lilla_, they're all beautiful, Leslie as well. It does my heart good to see you so happy as husband and father."

"Never really thought it would happen, till it did," Christian admitted candidly. He paused a moment, then frowned. "How is it you're speaking such perfect English? When you were…well, before…your English was rather halting."

Queen Susanna smiled. "I know, but this was a gift Mr. Roarke gave me, so that I could speak freely with both you and Leslie. Don't ask me how or what it is, I don't know. I only know that I have this time with you two, and I dare not waste it. We're here because of all your demons, my son. All the questions and the rage and bitterness that have plagued you off and on for so many years."

"Best get it done," grunted a voice from the corner, for the first time. Everyone's attention was immediately drawn to the seated figure dressed in a suit and tie, his dark-flecked gray hair carefully cut, his stern features decorated with a rather old-fashioned-looking, sparse Van Dyke beard. Christian looked down at his own clothing, as if self-conscious about his black slacks and white silk shirt, then looked back up again and leaned forward with an odd air of reluctance about him. But there was a curious expression on his face.

"What's wrong with your forehead?" he wanted to know. That was when Leslie saw the crooked line of deep red indentations that marched across the forehead of the man she realized was Christian's father, King Arnulf I.

The man stood up and aimed an ironic look at his youngest child. "That's the penance Mephistopheles forces me to bear," he said, raising a brow in that oh-so-familiar Enstad way. "A crown of thorns. I was allowed to take it off for this meeting, and I suppose for that alone it was worth making the effort to come."

Christian folded his arms over his chest. "Oh yes, I can just imagine how little you were looking forward to this."

Just then Tobias pointed at the king and asked right out loud, "Who you?"

Arnulf I blinked and stared at the little boy, looked at Christian in sheer amazement, then back at Tobias. "Well, well. Don't tell me…is this little mackerel yours?" He didn't wait for an acknowledgement from Christian before raising his eyes to take in Leslie, who stood quietly looking back. "Now just a moment, that's not Marina."

"It certainly isn't," said Christian, raising his own eyebrow. "Surely you didn't really expect me to go quietly into that marriage once I found out you'd arranged it behind my back. No, this woman was entirely my choice. This is my wife Leslie. We've been married nearly six years now, and these are our children, Tobias, Karina, and Susanna." He indicated each child as he spoke the names.

"Who you?" Tobias demanded again.

"Well, he's certainly a prince, isn't he," the king observed with a rusty-sounding chuckle. To the child he replied, "I'm your grandfather."

"Got a g'ampa," Tobias shot back, lifting his small chin. "Dere." He stretched out one arm and pointed behind Leslie at the door where they'd left Roarke on the other side.

The king stared at him, while Christian and Leslie exchanged glances of astonished amusement, and Queen Susanna hid a smile behind her hand. After a moment Arnulf I seemed to recover and let out a surprisingly genuine laugh. "Smart boy, that one," he said. "Yes, you do have a grandfather, but I'm your _other_ grandfather. Your father," and here he gestured at Christian, "is my son."

Tobias looked dubious and a bit confused, but said no more, again wrapping his arms around Leslie's leg. Queen Susanna chuckled aloud this time. "Well, Ulf, now that you know about Christian's wife and our youngest grandchildren…what do you think?"

"Hmph." The king took in Leslie. "I notice you didn't curtsy."

"You haven't earned it," Christian jumped in, a little heatedly.

"My love, I curtsied to Arnulf that one time I met him," Leslie reminded him in a gentle voice. "It's just common courtesy." She relinquished Susanna to the queen and performed the same deep curtsy she had executed a few minutes before. "Your Majesty."

"Well done," Ulf observed as she rose once more. He peered at Christian. "She's not conventionally beautiful, but she certainly has pleasant features. And she's given you three damned good-looking children. You know…" He studied Christian as he might have regarded a slow-witted student who had just brought home a straight-A report card. "You've done the family proud after all. Must admit, I never thought I'd see it."

"Not that you lived long enough to see anything," Christian remarked.

His father grinned. "True enough. Well, all right, I gather we're here for a purpose. Susanna, you know more about it than I do, why don't you tell them." He ignored the fact that both his wife and granddaughter turned in response when he said their shared name, and pulled up the chair he'd been sitting in. "I'll just have a seat here."

Queen Susanna, bouncing her granddaughter gently in her arms while the little girl investigated her silver chain necklace, shook her head a little and focused on Christian. "You've been troubled lately, haven't you," she said.

Surprised and clearly uneasy, Christian afforded her a wary nod. "How did you know about that?"

"The fates are kind," Queen Susanna said. "They let me watch over all my living children when I wish. Lately I've had the most reason to watch you. And I know that ever since something Leslie said, you've been more troubled than usual by those old demons." She saw both Christian's and Leslie's eyes widen, Christian's with alarm and Leslie's with worry, and smiled at the latter. "Oh, don't fret over it, my dear. Christian himself knows you were right all along. He merely wanted to avoid burdening you with guilt. It was during your argument last month, when he again mentioned all the deeds Ulf and Arnulf committed against him in their lives, and you told him he had never gotten over it."

Leslie gasped and looked at Christian. "Oh no. Christian—"

He shook his head quickly. "I forgave you for that long ago, my Rose, you know that. It's just that…" He glanced at his mother and sighed in resignation, then reluctantly confessed, "Well, those words have been circling my brain ever since then. I know they're true, painfully so—so much that I've been trying to reconcile myself. I suppose I've known it deep down for a very long time, but you were the only one who ever came out and distilled it into a few words. That's what's been haunting me since that night. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you feeling responsible for upsetting me so. It's my own turmoil and I had to find a way to work it out on my own." He looked at his parents, each in turn, before shaking his head a little with lingering amazement. "But it seems I have some help now."

"Exactly so," Queen Susanna said with a nod. "That's why we're here. I could see how you were being slowly torn apart by it, and then when you collided with that other vehicle last week, I decided enough was enough. We get only one chance to do this, all of us on the other side, and we must have a true, strong and compelling reason to request to use that chance. You'll never find any peace, Christian _lilla_, until you can get some answers to all your questions. So not only am I here, but your father as well."

Christian was almost laughing. "My damned _car accident_ decided you to go ahead with this? Oh, Mother, that's priceless."

Queen Susanna grinned at him. "Whatever catalyst works, my son," she said whimsically. She looked thoughtfully at her granddaughter, who was watching her with wide eyes and no fear now. "Susi _lilla_, would you like to sit with your _farmor_ while I talk to your mother and father, then?"

Susanna nodded and unexpectedly announced, "I wike you, _farmor."_

"And I love you, Susi _lilla,_" the queen replied softly, her eyes aglow. "Now, let's sit here. There are chairs behind you, Christian and Leslie, and perhaps the little ones there can sit on your laps if they like." She settled herself while her son and daughter-in-law found the chairs in question and pulled them forward. Tobias climbed into Christian's lap while Karina appropriated Leslie's. "I'm here if you need me, my son," the queen added, "but this is mainly between you and your father. Why don't you go ahead."

Christian stared at Ulf, who sat trying to look stoic but mostly just looking resigned. Then he eyed Leslie and observed humorously, "I've probably wished for this opportunity hundreds of times since Father died, and now that I have it, I don't know where to begin." Leslie laughed, noticed that Ulf cracked an ironic little smile, and glanced at Queen Susanna, who though happily playing with her namesake was also paying attention to the discourse.

"Well, don't think about it," Leslie suggested, "just do it."

"Excellent advice," Queen Susanna said, smiling.

"I should be accustomed to this. We had enough clashes in our day," Ulf commented wryly. "And believe me, Susanna, they often got worse than before you left us."

"I know," the queen told him, visibly surprising him, and smiled. "Go on."

Christian sat in silence for a moment or two, unfocused gaze directed at the floor, as he pondered. Leslie was sure there were plenty of unresolved questions chasing each other in his mind and competing to be the first one to be asked, but at the same time she thought she knew what might be the first thing he did say. She watched her husband, glanced at the queen softly asking Susanna questions and gently tickling the child now and then.

Suddenly Christian spoke. "Just tell me one thing before I start, Father. Did you hate me, after all? And why?"


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § - November 20, 2006

Ulf opened his mouth as if to provide an automatic response, but was arrested at the sight of everyone staring at him. Only little Susanna seemed oblivious, snuggled happily in her grandmother's lap. Queen Susanna took advantage of the charged silence to warn him, "Tell him the truth, Ulf. After all this time and all that's happened, you owe him that."

Reflecting that that certainly wasn't what she'd expected to hear—she had thought he'd complain about the arranged marriages—Leslie shifted slightly in her seat and resettled Karina in her lap. Ulf rubbed his badly marked-up forehead and heaved an enormous sigh that echoed softly in the room. "Perhaps I did, Christian," he admitted heavily at last. "I'll confess to certainly having hated you when you were born and we learned you were a boy. It had been our hope you would be a girl. Carl Johan suggested it when your mother and I reacted badly to the news of her pregnancy with you, and we seized on that and clung to it from then till your birth."

He stopped because Christian was now staring at his mother, a betrayed, pleading look on his face. Queen Susanna closed her eyes, her delight in her grandchildren falling away. "Is that true, Mother? Both of you resented me?"

She swallowed, opened her eyes and gazed at him. "I was forty years old, Christian. In those days it was considered ill-advised for a woman to become pregnant at that age, and with my pregnancy history I certainly believed it. I was very, very sick, perhaps from the very day you were conceived. In honesty, your father and I thought I was too old to become pregnant again, so you were a shock. And when you were born…" She winced. "I passed off your care to a nanny for three months, until you landed in the hospital with pneumonia. It was only then that I realized how much you had grown on me, and I made it clear that from then on I myself would care for you. I wanted to make up for my mistakes with you, and I wanted to be sure you knew I loved you."

"You should have seen your mother shout me down at the dinner table," Ulf said with a glance at the queen. "She was enraged by my suggestion that perhaps it was better if you were allowed to die." He slanted a glance at Christian as he said this, but Christian's features were a mask of tight control. "It was a hideous thing to say, yes. But that was my mindset at the time—that we already had enough sons and didn't need yet another. Your mother stood up and made it clear to the entire castle that she was taking full charge of you from that day on, and that nothing I said would change her mind. I knew she meant her words, and I let her edict stand. Not," he concluded with a self-deprecating smirk, "that I didn't resent it."

"Christian _lilla_, did you ever find my diaries?" Queen Susanna asked then.

Christian's mask cracked with surprise. "If you've watched us, as you say, then I'm surprised you didn't know that. We did—even the first ten diaries that you hid in the curio cabinet you left me." He grinned. "We owe Karina for that. She somehow discovered the panel in the cabinet, and when Leslie saw what she was doing, she went in herself and brought all ten books into the light of day."

The queen smiled. "Then you must know already that this is what happened."

"I do," Christian admitted. "But sometimes you find yourself wondering what was really going through someone's most secret mind. Not even a diary necessarily contains its keeper's deepest, darkest thoughts."

His mother said quietly, "I gave you every thought in those books, my son. I was so guilt-ridden and so angry with myself and my own callousness, I decided I needed to pay penance by exposing myself in that year's diary."

Christian nodded, as if satisfied, and turned back to his father. "All right, so you did hate me when I was born. I was convinced you never stopped."

"Ach," Ulf grunted. "Your grandfather did his damnedest to make up for that, and after a while, once you began learning to talk, I could see your latent intelligence. I began to think you could be an asset to the family after all. But my father—ah, that eternal prankster, he just couldn't resist having his fun with me, his uptight, self-important son. He made sure to nurture that maverick streak in you. By the time he died, it had taken firm root, and any influence I might have had was forever gone." He sighed and met Christian's gaze at last. "The fact, son, is that I didn't hate you, but rather that independent bent. I couldn't control you as I did your brothers, and that endlessly frustrated me."

"So you tried to squash it by reverting back to the centuries of brutal protocol and no personal freedoms, political machinations and manipulations," Christian said.

"Including those arranged marriages, yes," Ulf said, obviously seeing what was coming next. "Well, I know that's bothering you, go on, then."

"Why in hell did you throw me at Johanna, knowing we loathed each other?" Christian demanded, leaning forward and making Tobias squirm for a better position in his lap. Intent on his questioning, Christian didn't seem to notice. "You must have seen…"

Ulf lifted a hand, silencing him. "What I was aware of, Christian, was that she did have a boyfriend of sorts—that overgrown ape you insisted on showing me that one night in the great entry." Leslie blinked, filing that one away in her memory to get Christian to explain later. "But her father loathed the creature and wanted something done about it. For my part, I saw you nearing adulthood without showing much interest in females, outside of that girl you were seeing when you were around fourteen or so. It bothered me, and as I watched you grow and you weren't taken with any particular girl, I became afraid that you were…well, _queer."_ He flapped a hand in a certain way.

"And you were not only badly misinformed, you were also prejudiced," Christian said. "Why didn't you just ask me, for fate's sake? If you ever needed to know anything, you could have simply approached me and asked."

"Oh, _hestebröss,"_ his father scoffed, amused. "You and I were distant enough from each other that I knew you'd never tell me a damn thing." Christian snickered helplessly at that, and Queen Susanna blinked in surprise, telling Leslie that apparently Ulf had used some sort of _jordisk_ curse word. She'd have to push Christian on that one as well.

Grinning, she interjected, "Don't forget, Sire, there are small ears in here."

Ulf goggled momentarily at her, then exploded with laughter. "Fate take me, girl, I like you!" he spluttered delightedly. Christian, too, was laughing, and Queen Susanna had an overjoyed look on her face. "No idea you knew any _jordiska_. My son must have taught you, eh?" He glanced at Christian.

"Under duress," Christian admitted cheerfully. "She insisted I teach her, but I had hopes of leaving out the objectionable stuff. I should have known better, with you around. Well, then, can we go on with it?" At his father's nod, he said, "Look…I wasn't that uncommunicative. You should have known better than to form your own conclusions and jump to them, and decide they were the last word on the matter. I suppose you were too convinced of your own rightness to descend so far as to ask your son about the truth of it."

"Would you have told me, then?" Ulf demanded.

"In something as important and life-altering as that, yes, damn you!" Christian spat. Tobias wriggled off his lap altogether and retreated to Leslie, trying to climb onto her beside Karina and making his sister push impatiently at him till Leslie managed to set each child on one of her thighs. Apparently unaware, Christian plowed right on. "If your ridiculous assumption that I was gay is what prompted you to throw me at the first likely-looking girl who came along, then you can bet your eternal punishment you should have come to me and gotten the truth before you took it upon yourself to do what you liked with me!"

"So I should have," Ulf admitted quietly, catching Christian off-guard and making the prince audibly swallow back the next angry salvo. "Mind you, by the time I jumped to that conclusion, you'd already met Johanna, but I hadn't yet gotten so far as to decide something must be done about it. Then her father came around to talk tariffs, and after some conversation, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. Since Rollefsen wanted to get her away from the monster she was dating, he readily agreed." He shrugged. "I honestly didn't think you could resist her. She was the most beautiful girl I'd seen since your mother, and all I could think about was how good you two looked together and how you could hardly resist each other's good looks and eventually produce equally attractive children."

"Well, so much for that 'brilliant idea' of yours," grumbled Christian. "It took you far too long to see that that gorgeous exterior hid a rotten core. Did you listen when Arnulf's and Carl Johan's children complained that she was mistreating them? Were you ever really aware of how spoiled and selfish she turned out to be? She left me cold from the first time I ever met her, and then to find myself married to her…all I could see was misery for the rest of my days. You would never have had grandchildren by us, you know. We hated each other so much, we couldn't stand to even be in the same room together." He sighed heavily and shook his head, then swept an apologetic glance across his mother and Leslie. "To tell you the truth, when she was killed in that train wreck, all I felt was sheer relief."

"The trouble with you, Ulf," Queen Susanna observed then, "is that you couldn't leave well enough alone. After Johanna died and Christian went off to do his military service, you found the chance to meddle again."

"Aha," Christian pounced on this. "Now what was the deal with Marina LiSciola? Of all the idiotic stunts you pulled on me through your life, that must have been the winner."

"I don't suppose Arnulf ever explained it to you," Ulf ventured. "He was present for the entire negotiation of the contract that bound you to Marina."

"Ach." Christian shrugged and made a face. "We had a talk, he and Leslie and I, the day before he died. He claimed you were backed into a corner, forced to it."

"We were," Ulf said, a little defensively. "That much is fate's truth, Christian. The count used his position as the world's only grower and supplier of amakarna to box us into a deal we simply couldn't turn down. He was nothing like his father. The man we previously dealt with was as honest as good earth. His successor had far fewer scruples and didn't hesitate one moment to use his position to elevate his own status in life."

"Oh, we knew well enough he was a worthless social climber," Christian said, sweeping a dismissive hand through the air. "What I really want to know is why you insisted on selling me. You could have easily matched Marina with Rudolf, for example. They were the same age, and might very well have suited each other."

"Because I didn't want one of my grandchildren contracted to be married before all my children had spouses, plain and simple. You were an anomaly that had to be corrected. And since you and Johanna had always been so antagonistic, how was I to know whether you really weren't gay after all? You'd still shown me nothing that would have proven other-wise. So I decided it would be you, and I signed the contract on your behalf."

"Illegally," Christian fired at him. "Or didn't Mephistopheles see fit to tell you?"

"Yes, he told me," Ulf said, "and took great glee in it too. The only explanation I have for that is that I was king, sovereign ruler, and had the final word. My signature should have been enough."

"No one, not even the king, is above the law," Christian informed him icily, "and the law stated that you had to sign yourself as acting signatory. That, you didn't do. You just scrawled my name over that page, knowing damned well that you had no right—not just because you _weren't_ acting signatory for me, but also because I was of age and should have had final say as to whether I was married to that child or not."

"LiSciola would never have stood for it," Ulf said. "You weren't due back from your service for a few weeks yet, and he would have refused to wait that long. We needed that spice, Christian, you know that."

"You should have known better than to barter me off for it," Christian persisted, stubborn to the very last. "Again, you acted without consulting me and trying to find out the truth. Had you left me alone, I would eventually have found someone."

"Ah, you can believe the family read me the riot act at dinner that evening," Ulf told him wearily. "Every one of them condemned me for what I had done, and Kristina blamed Arnulf for doing nothing to stop me." He considered it for a moment, while Christian sat there glaring at him, and then peered at his son with interest. "What actually happened, then? I was gone, of course, before the contract came due."

"Where you left off, Arnulf gladly picked up, and then some. He was more than happy to enforce that sham marriage. I'll tell you what galled me: first of all, that I never knew a jot about it till Arnulf announced that I must return home to prepare to be married; second, that when he said this, I was right here on Fantasy Island, had just met Leslie and was in the process of falling in love with her." Ulf looked so shocked that Christian nodded with eminent satisfaction. "That's right, Father. I came here soon before my birthday that year to do a website project for a couple who turned out to be friends of Leslie's. Fate save us, if they had seen fit somehow to introduce me to her, perhaps I never would have had to worry about being saddled with a little girl I didn't know. I met Leslie literally days before that damned count brought Marina to Lilla Jordsö and left her at the castle with the family. I proposed to Leslie while I was here on my second trip to create a website for the island and her father's business, and then flew back home to start the process of moving here to marry her and make my life with her. And what did I find upon coming back? That my own brother had deliberately married me to a child, by proxy! I came as close as I ever got to killing someone that day. Leslie thought I was playing cruel games with her, and it took her weeks to realize what had really happened and to forgive me."

"That, Ulf, was purely medieval," Susanna said sternly. "It was the twentieth century and such things just are not done any longer. Christian and Leslie were forced to wait more than four years before Mr. Roarke's young cousin finally took on the task of growing and selling amakarna himself, and was able to sway Arnulf into terminating LiSciola's contract and freeing Christian to marry Leslie."

"_Heilige hjusande ödet,"_ Ulf breathed. By now he was quite pale, making the marks on his forehead stand out in grotesque fashion. "I never…" His voice trailed away and he made a helpless gesture with both palms up.

"That leads me to another question," Christian said, crossing one leg over the other and regarding his father with a hard stare. "Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that Leslie and I had met earlier than we did. Say…in 1993, when she made a trip to Lilla Jordsö." He caught his parents' surprised looks and smiled fleetingly. "I'll let Leslie tell you about that. Anyway, suppose we had met and fallen in love at that time, and I had brought her to the castle to meet you and the rest of the family. Suppose I had proposed to her and she had accepted, and we had come to inform the lot of you that we intended to get married. What would you have done about LiSciola and his dreams of seeing his daughter become royalty?"

Ulf scowled. "Believe me or don't, Christian Carl Tobias, and I have no doubt you won't. But had you found your Leslie before Marina came of age and her father demanded we fulfill our end of the bargain, I would have been more than happy to rain my blessings on your marriage. I would have paid every expense for the damned thing and been delighted to do it. It was always my intention to tell LiSciola that he would have to discuss which of my grandsons he wanted for his daughter, if you had managed to find someone before Marina's twenty-first birthday. I was merely waiting for it to happen, but by fate, you were just too damned picky. As I said, believe me or don't, but it's the truth. Your mother told me to tell you the truth, and while it does me no good whatsoever, the fact is that I still love her and I want her to be happy. And she's right, I owe you that much."

For a moment a startled silence held sway; then Christian looked at Leslie, and saw tears in her eyes. "We almost did meet, Sire," she said in a shaky voice that kept dropping into a thick whisper. "I ate at the café where Christian used to have breakfast all the time. If I'd gone in for breakfast instead of brunch…" She squeezed her eyes closed and began to cry, despite herself. She knew deep down that she was, as always, getting too emotionally involved again; but she had no idea how not to.

She heard Karina and Tobias begin to whimper in fright, and then an arm slid around her. "My poor dear girl," Queen Susanna said softly. "You know it's not your fault nor anyone else's, don't you? It's nothing but fate's caprice, you must realize that. Fate plays crueler games with people's lives sometimes than even Christian's father could have dreamed up."

"But Christian had suffered enough already," Leslie protested tearfully, looking at her mother-in-law in pleading. "If I'd only had the sense to go in at a reasonable hour…I slept late those mornings, both times I went. Think what could have happened. Christian would never have had to worry about being married to Marina and having to endure her father's constant gloating, and we wouldn't have had to wait so long…and maybe the triplets would be ten or twelve years old by now. They could have known Sire at least, even if they…" She choked off her own words and shook her head, tears flying loose as she did. "I wish it could have been different, Madame, that's all…"

"I know, I know," the queen soothed her. "We all do, my dear. Fate does things for strange and absurd reasons. We'll never know why; she and her sisters don't see fit to tell us. But be grateful that you did meet. I can see that you're the best thing that ever happened to my son. I hoped and hoped he would finally lose his heart to someone special, and I see that he truly did, with you. You've done my son so much good, Leslie, you'll never know how grateful I am to you for that."

By then Christian had knelt beside her, and reached up to brush at her wet cheeks with his thumb. "We've been over this before, my Rose," he reminded her gently. "I still remember the shock we had when we discovered how close we came to meeting almost three years earlier than we did. But I've thought about it since then, and somehow I have a feeling you wouldn't have been ready. You'd been a widow only three years at the time, and I suspect if we had met and I'd approached you, you would have found a way to rebuff me."

"I don't know," Leslie said helplessly, wanting desperately to deny it but unable to bring herself to do it, for fear he was right. She would have to carefully consider it later on, she guessed. "All I know is, it wasn't fair."

"That, I'll agree with," Christian conceded ruefully, smiling at her. "But as Mother said, fate sometimes plays very cruel games with our lives. It's all right, my darling. In the end, we did meet, and here we are, right?"

She managed a smile. "Right. Well, I'm wasting your time, you're supposed to be getting answers to all those nagging questions of yours."

He chuckled, kissed her cheek and returned to his chair; meantime Queen Susanna dragged her own chair to sit directly beside Leslie and sat down again, lifting Susanna back into her lap and then reaching out to smooth Tobias' hair and smile at Karina. "You must forgive me if I can't keep my hands off them," she said apologetically. "I'll never have another opportunity to know them. Christian's children. I'm still in awe."

"Me too," Leslie said with a little smile. "Indulge yourself all you like, Madame. I know I would if it were me. I wish…oh, I so wish we could…"

Queen Susanna gently shushed her. "I as well, but it's not possible. Fate makes no exceptions even for royalty. We must accept what is. But be assured I'll revel in this memory forever." They smiled at each other.

While they were quietly talking, Christian and Ulf watched for a moment or two, without the women's awareness of it; then Christian turned to Ulf, only to be astonished by his father's wistful expression. "What?" he asked.

Ulf blinked but didn't take his eyes off his son's face. "I never saw that side of you," he said. "You seemed quite…well, cavalier with the women you dated before you met this one. I saw you escorting them on various occasions, but never once did you look at any of them as you look at Leslie. That alone tells me you did indeed fall in love, after all."

"And you never thought I would, hm?" Christian filled in.

Ulf smiled that wry smile again. "As fate witnesses me, I had given up. I thought you had the world's most impenetrable heart. Now I must admit, it was a great relief to me to realize you were never serious about that Astrid Franzén, but I had especially high hopes for Karin Grimsby. It simply astounded me when you turned her loose."

"I liked Karin fine," Christian said with a shrug, "but somehow, whatever we had between us in the beginning just failed to catch fire. Here…do you see this?" He deliberately displayed his wedding ring at his father. "You must have thought I was going along with tradition when I didn't bother with a ring at my wedding to Johanna. I would have worn one if I had felt as though it were a true marriage, but it felt so wrong to me that I refused to sully the symbolism that a ring means to me. I refused to wear one during my marriage to Marina either. This ring is my way of telling the world that this is my one real, true marriage, and that I want everyone to know I'm married to the woman I truly love."

Ulf made a grunt of surprise, and Christian could see he was impressed, even if it was unwillingly so. "Well, I said it before, but I tell you again, if Karin Grimsby had been the one you really wanted, I would have given all the go-aheads you needed to be married to her." He caught Christian's surprised look and grinned. "You'll probably laugh at this, but I really believed I had done the right thing until you started running around with Ingela Vikslund." He paused a moment, questions in his eyes, when Christian's levity visibly died at mention of this name, but made a half-shrug and continued. "Not that I really thought the two of you suited all that well, but I watched you anyway, just to see what would develop. And then there was a lot of brouhaha about her having been seen leaving your flat in the dead of night, just before you split up with her. I realized then that you must have finally lost your virginity and I was positively thrilled. _Ah,_ I thought, _he's not gay after all, fate be thanked!_ As time slipped on, I considered the contract and the deal I had made with that scoundrel LiSciola, and I thought what a wonderful joke on him should you find your ideal woman before his child matured. Oh, I see the disbelief in your eyes. I know you take me for the most selfish, cold-hearted man who ever lived, my boy; but don't forget, it was your brother who ultimately made you marry that little girl. Had I managed to live to hear about your meeting Leslie there, I would have been the one who called you in regard to the contract; and yes, by fate, when you said you had met Leslie and you were falling for her, or whatever it is you told Arnulf, then I would have wished you the best of luck, asked that you keep me informed, and put off LiSciola until you made an announcement—or else given Rudolf to him. The boy was a free agent, I doubt he would have cared much."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Christian remarked. "Rudolf's a lot like me. Carl Johan and Amalia have said on any number of occasions that sometimes they're not sure he isn't my son rather than theirs."

"Well, then, Gerhard perhaps," Ulf said with a shrug. "Roald was too young, that wouldn't have worked out. I expect Gerhard would have settled into it without fuss. But the fact remains that if I could have stayed alive that long, you and Leslie would have been married for ten years now, rather than only these six or so."

"Hmph," Christian grunted, then peered narrowly at his father. "So…it took Ingela Vikslund to convince you I was attracted to women and not men."

Ulf's gaze grew wary. "Why do you say her name in that tone of voice?"

"Oh, that's right, evidently you don't have the privilege Mother does of knowing what's happening with the family. Well…suffice it to say that…" He waited a beat, then said deliberately, _"We know."_ He watched the slow shock of realization gradually fill Ulf's face and nodded. "Yes, we all know."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § - November 20, 2006

By this time Queen Susanna and Leslie were both looking on avidly, and now the queen spoke, her voice a little ominous. "What is it that you know, Christian?"

"So I guess Father and Arnulf kept you in the dark too, hm?" Christian observed with resignation. "Well, let me see if I can put it in the most succinct terms possible. When Esbjörn was assassinated in 1982, it turned out he wasn't actually killed at all. Instead, he was injured, and everyone thought he had died. He was spirited away before anyone could truly investigate, and for the next twenty-three years he was held at a compound outside Stockholm—a compound owned by the Vikslund family. The same Vikslund family who wanted drilling rights to oil that lay immediately off our northern coast, and the same Vikslund family that made some sort of deal with Father and Arnulf to see to it that they got those rights, despite pressure from environmentalists to set the legal limit at twenty-five kilometers away from shore."

"You didn't know, Madame?" Leslie asked.

Queen Susanna shook her head slightly in a daze. "I hadn't sensed lately that Anna-Laura needed me…" She trailed off, oblivious to Christian's and Leslie's baffled looks, and focused on her husband, who closed his eyes at the onslaught of her glare. "I remember that. It was in the news for months that year, and Esbjörn was at the very forefront of the movement to restrict drilling rights so near shore. He was so active in it that he was elected head of parliament, and we were all so certain that for once greedy companies would be shouted down and the welfare of the planet would hold sway. And then he was killed…" She blinked and looked at Christian. "Or not, as you say. Tell me how you learned he was alive."

Christian explained about Gabriella's husband, Daniel, visiting his mother for the Christmas holidays the previous year, and how when Esbjörn had escaped, he had gone to Daniel's mother's home and sought refuge, thus setting off a mad chain reaction of events on Daniel's part to make sure Esbjörn was safely returned to Lilla Jordsö and the royal family before the news of his escape became public. "It happened the night Rudolf and Louisa were married. You'd think Esbjörn and Anna-Laura had never been apart; they seemed to pick up right where they left off. They're very happy together and looking forward to Roald and Adriana's first baby."

Queen Susanna nodded and returned her attention to Ulf, who sat with the expression of someone about to take a seat in the electric chair. "You'd better tell me what you knew, Ulf. What both you and Arnulf knew." She bolted back in her chair as if someone had stricken her. "No wonder you never put any pressure on Anna-Laura to remarry. You knew all the time that Esbjörn wasn't dead!"

"How in hell could you do such a thing?" Christian wanted to know.

Ulf lifted his hands a little bit, then let them drop, in a gesture of futility. "The job situation was tight back then. Einar Vikslund promised hundreds of new jobs to help get unemployed _jordiskor_ back to work. He came across as benevolent and wanting to help the people, and when he came to me at the 1981 Christmas ball with the idea, I thought it would be beneficial." He sighed. "Vikslund leaked details bit by excruciating bit. By the time Arnulf and I had any idea he meant to drill immediately offshore, we were so caught up in it, we couldn't back out. And Arnulf in particular was adamant about going through with allowing the man to have his rights, because he wanted to see people going back to work. It never occurred to him to think of the impact on the environment. He and Esbjörn got along well enough otherwise, but they were night and day on that issue.

"So when Esbjörn was shot…I saw my chance. I was getting more and more worried about the way things were going, and public mood was overwhelmingly for setting the offshore drilling limit. In a way, I saw his shooting as a boon for me. I was able to immediately change sides and to have what looked like a concrete reason for doing so. So I signed the drill limits into law that December."

"But you knew he wasn't dead," Christian persisted.

Ulf nodded without looking up. "Yes, Arnulf and I both knew. It began when Arnulf happened to overhear Esbjörn telling Anna-Laura that he fully intended to come out against Vikslund's plans, and to use his position in the parliament to do so. Arnulf promptly told me what he had heard, and I told Vikslund. I don't know what Arnulf's motives were, other than being obsessed with creating new jobs. Mine were to warn Vikslund of what he was up against, in the hope that he would address that side of the issue and try to solve the problem so that new jobs could still be created without damaging our environment.

"I didn't know how ruthless he truly was. I spoke with him over the telephone the evening Arnulf told me about Esbjörn's intentions. At least twice he paused in the conversation to speak to someone else in the room with him. I heard low voices, but no words. It sounded as if one of them was a feminine voice." He finally did look up then, eyeing Christian. "It wasn't till after you started seeing Ingela that I realized it had been her voice I'd heard that evening. In any case, he didn't keep this as confidential as he should have. And on the evening Esbjörn was shot, both Arnulf and I were in a parliamentary session that was just then letting out. We sent Esbjörn home with all the junior members of the parliament; and he didn't mind going. He was dedicated to his work, but he never stayed longer than necessary because he was equally dedicated to Anna-Laura and Ceci and Roald. So the assassin must have been waiting for him, and as soon as Esbjörn came out, he shot him."

"Are you saying you knew who the assassin was?" Queen Susanna asked, horrified.

"No, that I don't know. But I knew it was Ingela who hired him, at least once I realized who else had been in the room with Vikslund," Ulf said.

Christian gaped at him. "And even knowing that, you let me date that woman?"

"After all the worrying I'd done about you possibly being gay?" Ulf retorted, though his voice sounded self-mocking now. "Hell no, boy, not the ever-almighty King Arnulf the First. I wanted to see whether it would eventually reach the point where you slept with her. I wanted that proof that you really weren't gay. So I said nothing." He raised his hands when Christian began to speak. "Excoriate me all you want, Christian. You'd merely be wasting your breath. Do you honestly think that after ten years of having nothing to do but contemplate all the deeds I committed when I was alive, I wouldn't have finally understood the damage I did and just how I was going to be made to pay for it all?"

"That's all fine and well for you," Christian shot back, incensed all over again. "It's too bad you didn't have that epiphany while you were still alive! You let me squire that viper all over the country when you knew she was the one who had hired the scum who tried to kill Esbjörn, all to satisfy your inner prejudices against homosexuals by making sure I wasn't one of them. But even worse than that, you allowed Anna-Laura to carry on for decades thinking the one man she'd ever really loved was dead. You deprived her of her husband and Ceci and Roald of their father. When Vikslund's bid to drill practically on the beach was defeated, and _you_ signed it into law with such a grand flourish, why in hell didn't you open your mouth and get Esbjörn out of that hell he'd been consigned to?"

"It had all gone too far by then," Ulf said low. "I knew it, Arnulf knew it, and Vikslund knew it too, the damned bastard. Having gone down in flames, he was determined to get _some_thing out of all his wasted efforts. So when he came to us at the 1982 Christmas ball and insisted on a private audience with Arnulf and me, the first thing I said was that it was all over now, Esbjörn should be brought back home and restored to his family and his position in the parliament. But Vikslund threatened me. He made it plain that if I tried to do anything toward that end, he would go public with mine and Arnulf's roles in the whole sorry disaster. He promised he would see to it that we were totally ruined and I would have to give up the throne and choose a successor other than Arnulf. And furthermore, he even said he'd send Ingela's hired assassin to do us in."

Christian looked at Leslie. "I was right," he said. "I told the family he let the status quo stand so that he could save his own skin. And that's precisely what he did."

"Don't tell me you were missing your chance to be king," Ulf said, unwisely.

"_Herregud,_ you insane old fool, if you believe that, you're even farther gone than I thought!" Christian snapped. "I never wanted the throne, and I went so far as to say precisely that to Arnulf just before his coronation. It's too damned bad you didn't do the right thing and sacrifice yourself to bring Esbjörn back! Carl Johan would have made a perfectly competent ruler, and he wasn't half as biased as Arnulf was."

"Ah, you mean you'd have had a square deal under his reign," Ulf observed.

"Quite likely, but that isn't the point. You would have done the right thing for once in your life. Can you possibly imagine all the things that might have been different, for all of us, had you and Arnulf disregarded that old miser's idiotic warnings and confessed? It's even possible you wouldn't have had to give up the throne after all, if you'd only come forward and told the full truth. But you must both have had more on your consciences than just keeping Esbjörn in indefinite hiding and forcing Anna-Laura, Ceci and Roald to go on without him, since you decided to cave in to Vikslund's manipulating. That was incredibly stupid and childish of you both. You should have had him arrested for threatening you."

Leslie was finally driven to speak; her memories of the night Esbjörn had come back to the family had been refreshed by the rehash. "Christian," she said, "what about Esbjörn's assumption that it might have been Arnulf who'd spoiled the assassin's aim?"

Stopped cold, Christian stared at her. Ulf and the queen both turned to her, and Ulf ordered, "Explain."

Leslie closed her eyes, hoping to better recall the conversation that had happened almost a year ago now. "Esbjörn said that his doctor thought the assassin must have been a really bad shot to miss him at such close range; but he, Esbjörn, mentioned having a memory of someone who he thought might be Arnulf, standing behind the assassin and deliberately spoiling the guy's aim. And remember—Carl Johan said that Sire and Arnulf were the last of the family to show up once the news got out."

Christian frowned, thinking back. "Yes, that's true," he said after a moment. "I'd forgotten about that. It took them more than an hour to get there." He looked at his father. "So how do you account for that?"

Ulf scowled at him. "I told you, we remained behind after the junior members had gone back home. When the word got in that Esbjörn had been shot, we were also told the assassin was still at large and we were to be barricaded inside the building for our own safety. We were kept there for the better part of an hour before someone found out the assassin had in fact been apprehended there on the spot, and even then it took another twenty minutes before we were released."

"Can you account for Arnulf's whereabouts during that time?" Christian asked.

Ulf opened his mouth, then frowned. "He was right beside me all that time, in our usual seats in the royal box there. If Esbjörn was right and someone did deflect the shooter's aim, then it wasn't Arnulf. It could have been anyone—for all I know, it was Vikslund."

"Esbjörn did say that even Vikslund himself was against the idea," Leslie pointed out then. "It was Ingela who hired the guy, not her father."

"Mmmm," Christian mumbled, considering it. Then he looked up at Ulf and shook his head. "I still say you were a coward, and Arnulf was never anything more, nor less, than his father's son. We all suffered for it."

"Ulf," Queen Susanna murmured then, her voice infinitely sad. "Do you have any idea how many times Anna-Laura came to me in those days after we thought we had buried Esbjörn, sobbing and wanting to join him in the grave? She had any number of nightmares for several months, too. And all because you let Vikslund have power over you by fearing he'd make good on his threats."

"There's an American journalist preparing to write a book about the entire catastrophe," Christian said then, making Ulf bolt up straight in his chair and gawk in horror at him. "We've all given our blessing to the project. Too many questions have been brought up in the wake of Esbjörn's apparent return from the dead, and it seemed right to have it all explained. Vikslund himself died a few years ago, so with the three of you gone, the only one who will really feel any heat is Ingela. She's in prison, but that won't matter."

"You'd all willingly sully my memory?" Ulf asked, strangely plaintive.

"I daresay you sullied your own memory," Christian said with a shrug. "Had you been on the proper side in the first place, or done the right thing at any time during the whole debacle—even after it was all over—maybe this wouldn't be happening, and any fallout would have occurred long ago. As it is, now you and Arnulf rank down there with King Erik VII as among the worst kings in _jordisk_ history. Public opinion has been very hot on this."

Ulf could only sit there and stare at him. For a few minutes they were all silent; then Christian heaved a sigh and looked at his mother. "While Father's digesting all that, I have a question for you. When he and Arnulf contracted with LiSciola to marry me off to Marina, I understand they told the entire family that same night. So why did nobody ever say anything to me, when I was the one who had a better right to know than anyone else in the family? Why the conspiracy of silence? If everyone knew, why was it necessary to leave the telling of it to Father or Arnulf? They didn't bother, and no one else seemed to want to be bothered either."

His mother looked very sad. "We all felt it was their responsibility to say something to you, which it was, after all. You had so much time given you to find someone before you had to face being matched up with that little girl, I think we all felt you'd easily beat the deadline without ever having to know about it." She smiled wistfully at him. "Except, as your father said, you were too choosy."

"I was waiting for Leslie, I think," Christian said, glancing at his wife, who smiled. "I just don't know. Fate, Father, Arnulf, LiSciola…it seems they all worked together to keep us apart all those years."

"I remember the last time you and I spoke," the queen said softly. "You cried, my son, and I pleaded with the fates to let you find that special woman before someone presented you with the fact of that contract. Which merely goes to prove that fate doesn't listen even to a queen begging on her son's behalf."

Leslie watched wistfully as mother and son stared at each other; then Christian shut his eyes for just a few seconds and swallowed before seeming to be stricken with another thought. His eyes popped back open and he looked at his father. "All those times you kept telling us you'd seen and spoken to Mother after she died," he began. "I mean, even before your dementia began to take over most of your waking hours. Were you really seeing…that is…" He looked at Queen Susanna. "Father claimed he saw you and spoke with you…so did you actually…well, I mean, were you really visiting him and talking to him the way he was always saying you were? He'd say 'your mother told me' or 'Susanna said', and tell us what you had purportedly said with all the confidence and authority on earth. I've been wondering for years, and now that I have the chance to ask, I want to know if it was true."

Leslie found herself grinning at Ulf's embarrassed look and Queen Susanna's wide-eyed surprise. Then the queen began to laugh. _"Herregud,_ no," she chortled, glancing between a red-faced Ulf and an astonished, amused Christian. "No, not at all. Remember, my son, I said before that we all get just one chance to see someone after we've…come to the other side. This is that chance. Whatever your father claimed I said, it all came out of his own mind. Truly, Ulf, did you really do that?"

"My mind was going," Ulf growled, shooting his unrepentant son a mock glare. By now Christian was laughing too. "I went on a long downhill slide, especially after you left us, Susanna. I missed you so desperately that my dementia provided a sort of mental substitute, I suppose. But at the time I really believed that was you talking to me."

"I see," the queen murmured, shaking her head, her eyes sparkling with mirth. She stroked Susanna's hair, grinning at the child's giggles. Even Tobias and Karina, both still nervous over being in the presence of their unknown paternal grandparents and sensitive to the high emotions running through the air, had loosened enough to giggle. "Your _farfar_ is a very funny man sometimes, Susi _lilla."_ She looked up. "It's simply fate's decree that we can never truly know these little ones, Ulf, but I can't help wishing, just as Leslie did."

"I wish you could meet my mother, too," Leslie said, surprising even herself with the words. "Christian and I always liked to think you two might know each other…"

"Oh, I daresay that could be arranged," the queen remarked smilingly. "I'll look into it later. Just for now, I want to enjoy my grandchildren."

Christian sat up. "Speaking of grandchildren…what about Ceci?"

"She's with me, and so is Axel," his mother assured him. "They miss Lisi dearly, but they know Anna-Laura and Esbjörn will take good care of her."

"We miss her too," Christian said wistfully. "Even getting Esbjörn back doesn't make up completely for her absence. But it's good to know that she's with you, wherever it is you are. Though I'm sure Leslie would love to have some sort of sign that you and her mother were able to connect…"

"I don't know," the queen mused. "Perhaps if she came to you?"

"She already has," Leslie said. "Years and years ago, when another emergency came up and I needed her help. I guess she's already used her one chance."

Queen Susanna nodded slowly. "I see."

"What happened to Cecilia?" Ulf wanted to know then, and Christian and Leslie both explained about the car crash that had taken Axel and Cecilia from them three years before. He nodded, rubbing a hand over his pockmarked forehead. "I'll admit, I was convinced for some years that it would be Christian who'd see his end that way, once he first learned to drive. Did he tell you, Leslie, that he did it in secret? Convinced our regular chauffeur to teach him how, and when Susanna and I returned from a trip abroad, we were shocked to learn he had the skill. First in the family to bother acquiring it."

Leslie laughed. "There's a lot about himself that Christian hasn't told me yet. I'm beginning to think someone should write his biography."

"Don't even think about it," Christian warned playfully. "Leave that for after I've joined Mother and Ceci, and anyone else who might precede me." He glanced at her and smiled. "Never fear, my Rose, I don't plan to do that for many years yet. But I'd prefer not to be around to see that biography written."

She chuckled. "I guess that's understandable, but you've mentioned some things you haven't told me about, and now I'm curious."

"We'll talk later," he promised. He glanced around then, shifting his gaze between his parents, and then began to look a little alarmed. "I…I don't have any other questions!"


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § - November 20, 2006

"I have one," Leslie ventured, surprising them all into twisting around to stare at her. She cleared her throat. "Well, maybe it's none of my business, but I've wondered. Madame, those diaries of yours that you left with Christian…Anna-Laura had borrowed them in order to research her biography on you. She's back home writing it now, and we're looking forward to reading it. But…there was something in the last one from the ten you left in the curio cabinet. Your first child…wasn't really Arnulf, but…"

"Oh, yes…I'll never forget how stunned I was to read about the older sister we never knew," Christian said. They had read that diary only three weeks ago or so, and had been so astounded they'd been up for two hours just marveling over it. "Martina."

"Why did you keep her existence such a secret?" Leslie asked.

"I'd like to know that myself," Christian agreed.

Queen Susanna sighed gently, her eyes clouding over. "It was in the thick of World War II," she said slowly. "I don't know exactly what the problem was, but somehow, despite all our trying, I couldn't become pregnant. The media began to speculate, and you know how that has always been until very recently—the woman automatically gets the blame for failing to conceive a child, even if it's truly not her fault. I was feeling the pressure, and we were undergoing a number of hardships and shortages due to the war, even with our neutrality. We were such a small country that the privations of the conflict affected us nearly as much as if we had been involved. I still remember eating _fårköttsmallan av Lanningsen_ one day and savoring it beyond my wildest dreams." She smiled distantly, her memory elsewhere. "Then in January 1941, I came down with something that had left me with a fever and chills. It eventually passed, but I began to feel endlessly hungry, and I had cravings for things that were completely impractical, not to mention impossible to get in wartime. I just couldn't stop eating, and I began to gain weight. At first Sire and Madame—your grandfather Lukas and grandmother Julia, Christian—thought it was a good thing, because when I married your father, I was such a skinny girl due to my upbringing in poverty. But then it became too much even for them to overlook, and we all pondered it before deciding that perhaps it was a combination of my previous deprivation, before I met Ulf, and the current shortages, and that one day it would pass.

"Then in early July, I had an unexpected rush of blood from nowhere at all, and more pain than I had ever known in my life. We were utterly stunned when the castle doctor told us I was undergoing a miscarriage. I was far enough along that they were able to determine that we would have had a little girl. She would have been the first princess in the family since Dorotea nearly a hundred years before. Ulf told me over and over that I wasn't to blame, but I insisted on complete silence. I feared the reaction of the media, after all the remarks about how I wasn't conceiving."

"We know all that, Mother," Christian said gently. "But I don't understand why you never told the family. We had to show Carl Johan the diary, and he was thunderstruck. He too wondered why we'd never been told."

"There were seven years between Martina and Arnulf," Queen Susanna said heavily. "The doctor suspected a large combination of things—the war, its pressures and shortages, my anxiety and the stress of my abrupt elevation from poor fisherman's daughter to princess. I had to make enormous adjustments in a very short time. And the doctor thought there might have been some damage from miscarrying Martina, damage that needed time to heal before I was able to conceive again."

"Was there any other pregnancy between Martina and Arnulf?" Christian asked.

Queen Susanna shook her head. "I failed to conceive that entire time, but Sire and Madame managed to quiet the press after the miscarriage by explaining that the war had been hard on everyone, and adding what I mentioned before about all the huge changes in my life. Madame cited her own example of having been unable to bear any more children after Ulf was born, and the media finally let the subject drop. The years passed, and we thought of it less and less, and then finally I fell pregnant with Arnulf. We thought it best to simply let sleeping dogs lie, as they say. The habit of not telling anyone, that I had begun in 1941, perpetuated itself, and somehow the memory of Martina fell through the cracks, especially after Arnulf's birth." She looked up. "You and your brothers and sister certainly deserved to know, Christian, but it never occurred to me to explain. I'm sorry."

Christian nodded a little. "I just thought…that perhaps, if Martina had lived, you might later have gone ahead and borne Arnulf, but possibly Carl Johan and Anna-Laura and I wouldn't exist."

Queen Susanna smiled, a touch of mischief in it. "If you really want the answer to that, my son, I suggest you consult Mr. Roarke." Christian rolled his eyes and they all laughed. "You could be right, but then again, perhaps not. Fate never tells anyone anything, you know that."

"True." Christian sighed gently and relaxed in his chair. "So tell me, do you ever see Grandfather and Grandmother?"

"I do, very frequently. For that matter, I see my own parents too, and even my little lost brother, the one you were named after." Queen Susanna nodded, her smile widening. "There will come a day—not that I wish this on you, for I know you're happy at last in your life—but there will be a day when you'll meet the rest of your grandparents, and truly get to know Grandfather Lukas, and your own Uncle Christian…and your sister Martina, too. For I see her as well."

"And Arnulf…?" Christian ventured.

His mother's face fell and she shook her head. Ulf snorted and put in, "No, Arnulf followed in my footsteps right to the very end. It's not that I see him; _Mefistofelo_ doesn't allow us to socialize and have family reunions such as your mother experiences." He saw Leslie's curious look and clarified, "That's the _jordisk_ adaptation of the name Mephistopheles. Don't you think it's easier to spell and pronounce?"

"Probably," Leslie said with a laugh, and the others joined in. "We were wondering why Arnulf isn't with you."

"The explanation I got is that he already made his peace, the day before he died," said Ulf. "Apparently the two of you had quite the heart-to-heart talk, eh, Christian?"

Christian nodded. "He'd had a heart attack on my birthday that year—the same day Leslie and I moved into our house. Anna-Kristina called from Lilla Jordsö to tell me about it, and said that for some reason he was insisting on seeing me. So Leslie and I flew there and saw him there in the hospital room. We had no way of knowing it would be the last time we ever spoke to him. But I've thought about it now and then in the time since, and I have a feeling he sensed he was dying and wanted to clear his conscience." He eyed his father. "It was apparently too little, too late, if he's in Mephistopheles' realm."

Ulf grunted. "What did he talk to you about?"

Christian shrugged. "A fair amount of the ground we covered here. I finally found out why you insisted on trying to marry me off, primarily. One thing's certain: I proved to Arnulf, as opposed to you, that I am definitely heterosexual. He finally believed it when he saw Leslie and me together." He glanced at the ceiling and smiled faintly. "As fate is my witness, he even apologized for keeping me apart from her, and asked forgiveness. And if you think that wasn't incredibly difficult to give…"

His father put up that brow again. "As a matter of fact, I was just picturing you trying to come up with the wherewithal to grant it. It's like trying to teach an automobile how to swim." Christian exploded with laughter at this, and he grinned. "Well, I tell you, boy, if he went so far as to push you into situations even I wouldn't have forced you into, then he must have felt he really needed your forgiveness. But as you said, too little, too late."

Christian studied him with a growing sense of astonishment blooming over his face, and finally remarked, "I never thought I'd say this, but if you really would have given over when I told you I was planning to pursue Leslie, that July day ten years ago, then I wish you had lived longer than you did."

Ulf laughed loudly, understanding this completely. "Well now, there's a revelation. But I suppose that's what life is for—learning and growing. Even for me, where I am, I guess it isn't too late. Not that it'll help me, but it's really for your sake. I wanted you to know that I hoped and hoped you'd find a woman before LiSciola's deadline came. Admittedly, it was less for your sake than for the anticipated satisfaction of foiling LiSciola; but nevertheless, I would have been extremely happy about your becoming involved with Leslie there. Yes, I would gladly have given you the go-ahead and put off LiSciola."

"I believe you, Father," said Christian softly.

Ulf smiled at that, and they all thought they could actually see tears in his eyes. "That does me good, my boy. I'll cling to that in the days ahead."

Christian shook his head a little and frowned. "You know, I just remembered. For the last couple of years or so, Arnulf made more and more of a push towards trying to introduce me to women, in the evident hope of my finding one I liked. In fact, just before I returned to the island to start work on the website Mr. Roarke and Leslie wanted, he told me very intensely that I was running out of time. I never understood that remark, and I never had the chance to demand an explanation. Now I know what it meant."

His parents looked at each other, and Queen Susanna suggested gently, "Perhaps even Arnulf was hoping you'd escape the trap that count so craftily set up."

Christian snorted, "I doubt he warned me for my sake. Not that I'll ever know his real motives, but I'm sure it had nothing to do with my welfare. So it astounds me that when he told me about the contract days before it came due, he didn't believe me when I said I was interested in Leslie. After all his cryptic warnings and pushing, and then he dismissed me out of hand when I said the magic words."

"Another case of 'too little, too late', then?" Ulf offered pointedly.

Christian winced. "Touché, Father."

"There's no use going over and over the reasons," Queen Susanna said then. "It's all done, it's all history. And in the end, everything turned out right. Now…can you think of anything else you need resolved, my son? I sense our time is running out."

Christian stiffened and straightened with new alarm in his chair. "No, please…"

"We can't remain forever, my son," his mother said gently. "Much as I would prefer to have that privilege, it simply isn't to be." She gazed regretfully at little Susanna in her lap; the child had all but fallen asleep on her shoulder, as had Karina and Tobias in Leslie's lap. "If you have anything else, this is the moment to bring it out."

"Oh, I do have something," Christian said, as if clutching desperately onto any subject that would keep his mother around a little longer. "When I was sixteen and had that violent vomiting episode…well, I suppose you must have thought you were trying to keep the secret from me, which makes no sense in light of the marriage contract and the reason for it, but I should tell you that Mr. Roarke eventually figured out that I had accidentally had amakarna instead of the stomach flu."

"We didn't know the future," Ulf said. "As we've already told you, we hoped you would find a woman long before the marriage clause came due, and you'd never have to know. But that was decidedly harrowing for us as well, boy, whatever you may think."

"You told Mr. Roarke about it?" Queen Susanna asked.

Christian nodded. "It came up when we were afraid that either Leslie or I might not be capable of parenting children, and we were considering various reasons for it. When I described that evening, and my symptoms, to Mr. Roarke, he recognized it for what it really was. It made me wonder why everyone tried to pass it off as something else."

"Lack of a crystal ball, boy, that and no more," Ulf said with finality. "Haven't you got anything more substantial to complain about?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it complaining," Christian said, and Leslie heard a challenge in his voice. "But I do have a revelation for you. After all your carrying on about your fears that I was homosexual and your misguided attempts to do something about it—as if you could change a person's sexual orientation anyway—" He rolled his eyes, and Ulf crossed his arms over his chest, as if they were back in the castle sparring again. "Well, let me tell you, you were looking at the wrong family member. You passed on before Magga was old enough to know, but it turns out she's a lesbian, and recently married her girlfriend."

Ulf goggled, so comically that Christian visibly repressed a laugh. "My granddaughter Margareta?" he blurted. "The levelheaded, sensible, stern one? The one who really should have been born first to take over the throne from Arnulf? She's…like that?"

Impatiently Christian said, "Father, don't be an ass. Yes, she's 'like that'." He said the words in mocking imitation. "She suspected for some little time, but it took her a while to come around to the full realization. And she was terrified of telling the family, for fear of the same reaction you just evinced. I remember her being relieved that you and Arnulf were gone, because she was convinced you both would have disowned her. And I see that you still have the same prejudices. You and too much of the human race in general. I don't wonder that she insisted on hiding it for so long. You need to understand that a homosexual person is still a human being, no matter what may be 'different' about them. They are not a substandard species that needs to be reminded what their so-called 'place' is. And no, you can't tell simply by looking. Magga is still the same Magga she's always been—still sensible and levelheaded, a little too stern—I think that's your legacy—and bullheaded almost all the time. But she's very much in love with her wife, and I think that's mellowed her a bit. She's moved out of the castle to live with her partner, and they're very happy."

"I'm so glad for her," Queen Susanna murmured. "I used to wonder, with her headstrong personality, if she could ever let herself fall in love. I'm glad she did."

"Did you know that Arnulf's grandchildren are all adopted?" Leslie ventured, catching Ulf's shocked attention. "He shouldn't have put the girls on that spice…it made them all sterile. Magga doesn't care so much, she isn't really interested in having babies. But Anna-Kristina adopted a little girl from China with her first husband, and she's adopted her second husband's two daughters from his first marriage. And Gabriella and Daniel have an adopted son."

"Well, damn," Ulf said, sounding dazed. "Sterile? All three of them? Then who the hell did Briella designate as her successor?"

"Gerhard's son, Mattias," Christian told him. "He'll be the next king. He's five now and quite a cultured and well-behaved young man for his age. I daresay you'd approve of him, in the way you never really approved of me."

Ulf chuckled. "Well, it's good to know that much. Ach, I've got plenty of food for thought, then, don't I?" He paused as if listening to something, then slowly settled back in his chair and smiled with reluctance. "_Mefistofelo_ is growing impatient. I suppose I'll have to go back soon."

Leslie, unable to resist, jumped in with what she knew was going to sound like a truly insane question. "Sire…do you ever hear someone weeping and wailing?" she asked, while Christian blinked at her in disbelief. "Crying out for forgiveness?"

"Fate save us, girl, I hear that all the time," Ulf scoffed. "What are you getting at?"

"Oh," Leslie said, shrugging. "Just wondered if you were aware that my biological father is a denizen of Mephistopheles' little fun park. That's what I hear he does. Spends all his time crying and begging my mother to forgive him."

"Forgive him, eh? What for?" Ulf wanted to know, and Leslie ended up telling him the old story of how she'd been orphaned and come to Fantasy Island. By the time she got finished, Ulf was clearly blown away. _"Herregud,"_ he breathed. "Even I never went so far as to actively attempt to kill my child—" Here he turned to Christian and twitted him, "Despite what you'd like to believe." Christian had to laugh at that. "No, that's simply heinous. You have my deepest sympathies, Leslie. But it seems to me you've been privileged to grow up with Roarke as your mentor, and now your father. If you think about it, in a very warped sort of way, Hamilton did you a favor. Gave you a chance at a truly happy childhood."

Leslie blinked idiotically at him, stunned. "I never thought of it like that."

"Little wonder," Ulf said, rising and crossing the room to come and pat her on the shoulder. "You were too blinded by the loss of your mother and your little sisters, and you couldn't be expected to take such an objective view of things. Now if those little ones don't mind losing their mattress, I'd like to do something, if you'll stand up."

Christian came over and lifted Tobias out of Leslie's lap, while the queen accepted Karina. She seemed more delighted still at the prospect of cuddling both granddaughters, and sat nuzzling their heads as she looked on. Christian watched curiously as Leslie arose and Ulf reached out to pull her into his embrace. "I just want to say thank you," he said gruffly. "You've been damned good for my son. You've made him far different from the angry and closed young man I knew. That was mostly my fault, of course, but I'm glad he wasn't so far gone that his love for you—and yours for him—didn't stand a chance of rescuing him from all that loneliness and wrath. Thank you for saving my son."

"I wouldn't call it that," Leslie said, biting her lip, but willingly hugging Ulf back, even though it felt quite strange to her. "I just fell in love with him, and I want him to be as happy as I can help him to be."

"That's all you need to do," Ulf said and grinned at her. "I can quit worrying over what damage I did to Christian, now. Must thank you for that as well." He twisted his head around and barked over his shoulder, "All right, damn it, I'm coming." He rolled his eyes. "The Big Boss is getting impatient. Christian, my son…" He released Leslie and grasped Christian's hands in his, squeezing. "Have I answered all your questions? Will you be able to live with the explanations, however inane and idiotic they may have been?"

Christian chuckled and let his head fall forward for a moment, studying their clasped hands. "Yes, I think I'm satisfied now. Thank you, Father."

Ulf regarded him solemnly for a moment or two, then cleared his throat, released his son's hands and placed a palm on Christian's cheek. "Believe me or don't, but let me say it to you anyway. I love you, son." He stepped back, evidently unaware of Christian's thorough shock, and looked longingly at Queen Susanna. "And you know I love you. I'll always love you, Susanna _min egna_. Always. Never forget that."

"I never have, Ulf," she said serenely. "Be assured of it."

Ulf nodded. "And as for you…Leslie and those little ones…I love the three of you as well, just for being what you are in Christian's life." He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his forehead, as though anticipating what lay ahead. "Thank you for this, all of you." That was the last he said before walking toward the wall and abruptly vanishing.

Christian lifted Tobias off the chair where the little boy was just awakening and rubbing his eyes. Sorrowfully he faced his mother. "I s-suppose that means you must go too."

Susanna arose, amazingly effortless and graceful with her arms filled with two small girls, and smiled at him. "I knew you had questions for me as well, my son. I thought it best to take this chance to answer them, as well as to be here if you and your father needed some sort of referee." They all grinned. "I know you miss me, Christian. I miss you too, you and Carl Johan and Anna-Laura, and their spouses, and my other grandchildren. And now, having met your Leslie and these beautiful children, I have more of you to miss. The only thing fate will give us is the knowledge that yes, we'll be together again one day. Whenever you feel too low, remember that, and remember to appreciate Leslie. Give her all the love you have inside you. Keep each other safe and happy and content. All I want is for you to know the peace that you never had before Ulf and Arnulf were gone."

"I do have it," Christian said, his voice thickening. "You can't ask me to stop missing you, Mother, and to stop wishing that both you and Leslie's mother could be part of the triplets' lives. But if this is all we can have…then I'll be grateful for it. I know most people would never have enjoyed a chance like this."

"That's true," the queen said softly. The girls had awakened, and she let them down, stooping long enough to gently hug them and kiss the tops of their heads. "I love you, little ones…especially you, Susi _lilla."_ Her eyes misted over as she smiled at little Susanna; then she straightened up and afforded Tobias the same treatment before turning to Leslie. "I can't speak any more eloquently than Ulf did when he thanked you for brightening Christian's life as you have. But I can express my gratitude. You are exactly what I hoped he would find all those years. You're as much my cherished daughter-in-law as Kristina and Amalia are." She smiled and gave Leslie a full and enthusiastic hug, which Leslie returned in kind, again wishing desperately that there were a way to keep her husband's mother in their lives.

"I'll always be glad I got this chance to meet you, Madame," she whispered.

The queen squeezed her and smiled as she released her. "As will I." At last she turned to her son, whose eyes had already filled with tears. "Now Christian, don't cry. It'll scare the children, perhaps even more so than when Leslie did it."

He shook his head, his voice thick and shaky. "It's almost worse than the first time; it's like losing you all over again. _Herregud,_ Mother, I don't know if I can stand this."

"You will. You have Leslie," the queen said and smiled, then hugged him, stroking his back as he clung tightly to her. "I love you, my son, keep that in mind for always. And don't ever give up on your life. Don't focus on what you've lost—focus on what you have now. You're very rich in love and life, my son. Always remember that. And also, don't forget, there will be a day in the distant future when we'll all be together. Fate is kind that way."

"I'll count on it," Christian managed, squeezing out tears. "I love you, Mother. And before I forget, please…don't forget to try to get in touch with Leslie's mother. My only other wish is that I could have met Shannon."

"You will one day," his mother promised him. "Now I'm afraid I really must go. But I can leave you with this: I'll always be watching over you." She smiled, brushed away Christian's tears and kissed his cheek. "Have I been able to help you?"

Christian nodded and backhanded his own tears, trying to hold in his misery. "Yes, you really did. Just seeing you again and having those reassurances…it's doing me good, even if it doesn't seem so at the moment." He managed a shaky smile, and both his wife and his mother hugged him, one from each side. He clung to them both, and Leslie felt him trembling subtly. "This might be the only time in my life I have the two women I've loved most in the world here at the same time."

The queen laughed and retreated, smoothing his hair. "Don't be afraid to give of yourself, Christian. Not just to Leslie. I know she's the most important person in your life. But I remember those boys you were friends with in _primaskolan_, so many, many years ago. You need friends like that too, my son, so make certain you don't abandon those friendships. Do that and you'll be happy. Will you?"

"I promise I will, Mother," Christian said softly.

"Good." The queen smiled, took in the sleepy children standing at their parents' feet, then her son and daughter-in-law. "I'll cherish this always. It will sustain me through the years I must wait. I love all of you…" She smiled at them, then slowly stepped back a few paces and quietly faded away, the way Leslie remembered her mother having done.


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § - November 20, 2006

Before Christian could give in to his sorrow, the lights went out, the triplets squealed in protest, and the door opened. "Come out," Roarke invited them. "Come and tell me how it went, Christian. Are you all right?"

"G'ampa," Tobias blurted before his father could speak. "We saw _farmor_ and _farfar_!"

"Yes, indeed you did, young man!" Roarke agreed, grinning at him. "And what did you think of them?"

"I wike _farmor_," Susanna announced. "Her Susanna too."

"_Farmor_ pitty lady," Karina ventured, looking a little left out. Roarke lifted her into his arms and smiled.

"I have no doubt about that," he said. "Well, would you three like a little milk and some of Mariki's cookies?" This met with approval from all three children, and he nodded and urged them to settle down around the tea table, giving Christian and Leslie time to compose themselves. When Mariki had delivered the children's snacks, Roarke turned to them and asked again, "Are you all right?"

"I think we will be," Leslie said. "Poor Christian, he has to readjust to his mother's absence all over again. But Madame promised we'll see her again one day. I'm glad about that, because she's so sweet and kind. If somehow we could have her back again, it would be wonderful to have her in ours and the children's lives." She hesitated. "Oh, listen to me…I've been speaking in the present tense."

"That's quite all right, Leslie," Roarke assured her. "Her Majesty is merely on another plane of existence, that's all. And Christian, what of you?"

"Another plane of existence," Christian repeated, staring into space for a moment before focusing on Roarke. "I like how you put that. It makes Mother seem less…less unreachable somehow." He returned Roarke's smile, though his own was a little wan, and drew in a long, fortifying sigh. "And you know, I think somehow my father and I finally connected, after all those years of being more or less at each other's throats. It simply stunned me when he said that, had he been alive when I met Leslie, he would have fended off LiSciola and allowed me the chance to marry Leslie when we originally intended to."

"Indeed!" Roarke remarked with interest. "And were all of your questions answered to your satisfaction?"

"I believe so," Christian mused. "I have a lot to think about. I'm still amazed by some of the things I learned." He looked up and then reached out to shake his father-in-law's hand. "Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Roarke. I can really never thank you enough, but I can certainly try. Mother said she just wanted me to have the peace that eluded me while Father and Arnulf were alive, and I think you've given me that. I'm deeply grateful for that gift, and mere words are completely inadequate."

"I am only the facilitator," Roarke told him. "Your mother did it all. However, I am more than happy to accept your thanks on her behalf." He smiled. "Now, perhaps you two would like to sit down and relax a little before the evening meal. You must have been in there for some three hours."

"Three hours!" Christian echoed. "It hardly seemed like one."

"All time is subjective, my dear Christian," Roarke said, amused. "I must admit to immense curiosity about what you discovered, but unless you're inclined to talk about it to anyone other than Leslie, I certainly won't insist you tell me. Although I should tell you that your mother was right: you will indeed see her again one day."

"Father, were you eavesdropping?" Leslie asked.

"Leslie Susan, what an accusation!" Roarke exclaimed, his affrontery clearly exaggerated. It made her grin. "It's simply something I've always known, and I think it wise if you and Christian both would remember that, when you begin to feel too sorry for yourselves." He winked at them. "How did you find your in-laws, then, my child?"

"I loved Madame," Leslie said. "Almost right from the start. I could see the bond between her and Christian—it was a lot like the one between Mom and me. His father was a little harder to warm up to."

Christian laughed. "No wonder, my Rose," he said. "As blunt and gruff as he is, I'm a bit surprised you spoke with him at all. Perhaps now you see the roots of all the madness, all the arguments and tugs-of-war we went through before he died."

Leslie nodded and admitted, "Yeah, I understand. But I think he was really remorseful for the mistakes and misdeeds he left behind. Somehow I can't quite imagine Arnulf being the same way. Arnulf struck me as cold, the day we talked with him."

"Cold and quite distant," Christian agreed. "Kristina saw another side of him, one I never had the privilege of witnessing. Father said it was because he took care to make his peace with me before his passing that he wasn't present at this session. In some ways it's almost a shame. Much of the time Arnulf was actually worse than Father."

Leslie shuddered. "Well, all I can say is, I found Sire easier to speak to than I did Arnulf that time. They're like fire and ice, and it's easier to warm up beside a fire."

Roarke and Christian stared at her, both impressed. "Very good, Leslie," Roarke said.

"That's a perfect analogy," Christian agreed. "How did you happen to think of it?"

She shrugged. "Just a random moment of genius," she said lightly, and Christian let out a groan, making her laugh. "I know one other thing, though. You have more of Sire in you than you want to confess to, my love. It's just that you know how to temper your fire." She smiled at him. "And that's the fire I feel safest with."

"Think we were too much alike, do you?" Christian chuckled. "I suppose that's possible. And perhaps it will be somewhat the same with my son and me, but I resolved eons ago to treat my children differently from how my father treated me. So if we are in fact too much alike, I have hope that we'll still always love each other."

"Then your father taught you better than he will ever know," Roarke said, and fielded their smiles with another wink.

* * *

_Next up will be a holiday story…this idea has been sitting around for a while, waiting for the proper time of year. As I mentioned at the beginning of the story, it may not get posted quite in time, but I'll do my best to try. In the meantime, happy holidays to everyone!_


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